Explore "Black Sheep" by Theodosia Pickrering Garrison on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Black Sheep, Black Sheep," / "Have you any wool?" / "That I have, my Master," / "Three bags full."
One is for the mother who prays for me at night -- / A gift of broken promises to count by candle-light.
One is for the tried friend who raised me when I fell -- / A gift of weakling's tinsel oaths that strew the path to hell.
And one is for the true love -- the heaviest of all -- / That holds the pieces of a faith a careless hand let fall.
"Black Sheep, Black Sheep," / "Have you ought to say?" / "A word to each, my Master," / "Ere I go my way."
A word unto my mother to bid her think o' me / Only as a little lad playing at her knee.
A word unto my tried friend to bid him see again / Two laughing lads in Springtime a-racing down the glen.
A word unto my true love -- a single word -- to pray / If one day I cross her path to turn her eyes away.